


You First

by Bookworm1063



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 16:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18876577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookworm1063/pseuds/Bookworm1063
Summary: In a post-apocalyptic London, Simon is captured by the Humdrum after being dumped by his girlfriend. The only thing standing between him and death might just be the handsome young man who delivers food to the prisoners.





	You First

Simon

The war wasn’t going well.  
No, at this rate, I feel it’s probably safe to say that we won’t survive the year.   
I drag myself down the hallway, Penelope’s arm thrown over my shoulder. She’s bleeding from a bullet wound in her right arm, and her left leg is bent at a funny angle. The panic is a familiar feeling- this isn’t the first time one of us has staggered in, supporting the other, one or both of us about five minutes from bleeding out on the floor.   
I reach the door to the infirmary and kick it open, pulling Penny’s limp form inside and placing her on one of the cots that line the far wall. “Ebb?” I call. “Ebb, are you here?”   
Ebb comes out from one of the storage closets. “Simon?” she asks. “What happened?” Then she sees Penny, and her mouth falls open. She grabs bandages and a first aid kit, practically shoving me out of the way in her hurry to get to Penelope’s side.   
“I’ve got her, Simon,” she says. “Go find your father. He’s looking for you.”   
I hesitate, but Ebb’s a miracle worker- she’s still got some magic, and unlike me, she can control it, so if anyone can save Penny… Well, she’s done it before. I leave her waving her staff over Penelope, murmuring Get Well Soon and Early to Bed, Early to Rise.   
As it turns out, I don’t have to go find my father, because he’s waiting in the hallway.   
“Simon,” he says. “How is Penelope?”  
“Ebb’s working on her,” I say. There was a time when I would have collapsed, crying, to the ground. There was a time when I would have raged and screamed at the whole world, because my best friend was dying and I couldn’t help. Not with my magic the way it was.   
It wasn’t always this way. It used to be that we all had magic, all of us mages. But then the Humdrum and the Old Families banded together to steal all of it for themselves, and so far, they’re succeeding. My father and Ebb still have some, but everyone else has run nearly dry. Even Penny struggles to cast a cliché most days.   
Except for me. For whatever reason, I have as much magic as I ever did. But ever since the Attack, when the Humdrum collected most of the magic in this world, I can’t control it. I just go off, and things die.  
“Good,” my father says now. “I’d hate to loose her as a soldier. She’s one of the best.” He’s right, of course.   
“I have to get back to command,” he says. “I think Miss Wellbelove is looking for you.” Agatha. I nod.   
“Thank you, Father,” I respond. “I had Gareth drop of the supplies in the garage- we picked up some rifles, and a few laser guns. Some provisions. We may need to do another run this week- it won’t last.”  
“Of course,” my father says. “Good work.” And then he leaves.   
I resist the urge to run after him, to ask for some comfort, reassurance, anything. To beg him to be less of the Mage and more of my dad. But he hasn’t treated me like a son since Mum died.   
I sigh and turn down the hallway in the opposite direction. Agatha’s probably in the computer room.   
Sure enough, I find my girlfriend sitting at one of the monitors, frowning at whatever she’s looking at.   
“Hey,” I call out from the door. She looks up and smiles, coming over to join me. We start walking- where, I’m not sure. It’s not like there’s anywhere to go.   
“How was the raid?” Agatha askes eventually.   
“Ok, I guess. We got supplies- Penelope’s hurt, though.”  
“Shit. Will she be ok?”   
“Ebb’s working on her.”   
Agatha nods, staring down at the tops of her sandals. I take a moment to really look at her.   
She’s pale, but I don’t think she’s left the bunker in three years. There are dark shadows under her eyes, and she’s thin, from all the times we’ve had to go without food. Her hair is chopped short- I know she hates it, but it’s one of the little things my father insists on. I notice, for the first time, how sick she looks. Like she’s wasting away.   
We all look like that, I guess.   
“Simon, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Agatha says. “You know how much I care about you.”   
“Yeah, of course.” I’m not sure where this is going.   
“Look, I just… You’ve been busy, with the war. We all have. And I just think that maybe now isn’t the best time for… distractions.”   
“Distractions,” I repeat numbly. “Are you breaking up with me, Agatha?”   
“Yes,” she says. “Don’t misunderstand, Simon. I do love you- you’re one of my only friends. I don’t want that to change. But I don’t think I love you like that- the way I need to, if we’re ever going to work out. So I just think that maybe it would be best if we stopped… pretending.”   
“Agatha, please, don’t do this,” I plead. I can’t deal with this. Not now. “I love you- I want to be with you. You know that.”   
“You want to be with me,” Agatha says, “because you know about ten people your own age, and eight of them are terrified, either of you or your father. It’s not like either of us had many options.”   
“What do you think is going to happen, Agatha?” I demand. “The war will end tomorrow, and we’ll all skip into the sunset, and you’ll have the world to choose from? It’s not going to happen.”   
“It might, one day. And I don’t want magic back. You know that.” It’s true. Agatha is one of the few people who doesn’t miss her magic, who doesn’t spend hours a day trying to cast a single spell. She’s here because the alternative is death.  
“Agatha…” I trail off, because I really don’t know what to say. “Please.”  
“I’m sorry, Simon,” she says. “I have to get back to work. I’ll see you at dinner?” And then she turns around and walks back to the computer room, head hanging, feet scuffing against the ground. All I can do is stare after her, wondering how the hell my life could possibly be this fucked up.

 

Agatha

I never asked for this.   
I never asked to end up a part of this war, to grow up in a bunker three miles below the surface, to watch from afar as the Humdrum destroyed everything I had known and enslaved most of Earth’s population. And still it didn’t stop. The Humdrum wasn’t going to stop until he had everything.   
A part of me can appreciate that.  
I wanted everything. I wanted out of this bunker and away from most of these people. I wanted the real world, with sunshine on my face and the Normal friends I’d abandoned to the Humdrum. I wanted my parents- I didn’t even know if they were alive. Our housekeeper, Helen. The life I’d been promised.   
Life has a way of breaking promises. Look at me, look at any of us. Living in a bunker, running raids on supply trucks and trying to predict the Humdrum’s next move, so we could… What? Slow it down? Inconvenience it? It had never been enough before. Why would it be any different the thousandth time we tried? Why would this time end with something other than bodies we couldn’t bury and the increased feeling of panic and desperation?   
Whatever it took to beat the Humdrum, we didn’t have it.

 

Simon

I wasn’t thinking.   
I left the bunker, taking the lift up to the disguised entrance at what used to be the London Eye, and hopped on one of the bikes we hide there. Now I’m riding north through the ruins of my city, hoping to see something I can fight.   
Most of Earth’s population is dead, or enslaved to the Humdrum in one form or another. Mind control, reliance for food and water, captured, a loved one captured. Or just simple fear of dying.   
The few people who live in London now are either members of the rotating group of resistance organizations that rise and fall in most of Earth’s major cities, or lived here before the Humdrum and have somehow managed to avoid death or capture. Or mind control.   
I keep my foot on the gas until I run across one of the Humdrum’s collection squads- that’s what we call them, anyway. Groups of people from the Families, riding down from the Mothership to terrorize us. Make life even more hellish for the survivors. I glance up at the Mothership out of habit- a huge chunk of metal in the sky over London, blocking out most of the sunlight. I hear there are others, over some of the other major cities. I don’t know. I just know that this was the first, that it’s the basis for all of the Humdrum’s operations, and that it’s what makes London so popular with resistance fighters.   
Anyway, there’s a squad up ahead, terrorizing a blond woman wearing a filthy tee shirt and torn jeans. No shoes, and there’s blood dried in her hair. She reminds me of my mother.   
So I don’t think. I just pull the laser gun from its holster on the bike and shoot.   
The first magician falls, a burn hole smoking on the back of his jacket. Normally I don’t shoot to kill, and I have no idea if he’s even dead, but today I just don’t care.  
The rest of the squad turns toward me, and the woman runs off down the neighboring alley. Good. I have no idea who the people I’m facing now are- Grimms or Pitches or any of the Old Families- and I don’t fucking care at this point. I just need a fight.  
So I shoot.  
Three more of them fall, clothes smoking from my gun, but there are at least eight of them left, and they have some magic. I mean, so do I, but I can’t use it.  
One of them, a tall, white-haired guy who I’ve never seen before (I recognize a few of the regulars), manages to hit me with Head Over Heels, and I fall, my gun clattering away across the pavement. Snakes alive, he must’ve been powerful. Not many people can pull of a combat spell anymore. Not even Penny can do it reliably, and she’s one of the most powerful people I know.   
A few of them grab me, and one of them- a woman, with dark skin and long black hair- seizes my chin, forcing my eyes up to meet hers.  
“Fuck,” she says. “This is him. Simon Snow. The Mage’s kid.”   
“Put him under, then,” the white-haired guy answers. “That spell won’t last much longer.”   
Something hard connects with the side of my head, and I lose consciousness. 

 

Baz

The news was everywhere.  
You couldn’t go two seconds without hearing it- they’d caught Simon Snow. The only person left with enough magic to amount to anything. I’d heard it firsthand, from my father and aunt, but everyone knew by now. No one on the Mothership has secrets- at least not from me.   
That’s why I’m still alive. I’m a vampire- if my last name hadn’t been Grimm-Pitch, I’d be out there, ravaging London under the Humdrum’s mind control until some human with a bit of spine put me out of my misery. Instead I get to stay here, reporting everything the Families say back to the Humdrum so he won’t kill my siblings.   
Everyone knows it, too. No one talks in front of me.   
No one likes me, either. I get all the worst jobs- spy for the Humdrum, scrub out the garbage disposals, deliver food to the prisoners.  
Which is how I happened to be in the prison wing the night Simon Snow was captured. He was already locked up by the time I started my rounds, in the cell at the end of the hallway- the last one I’d visit. The only one that was magic-proof. Not that most of us have any magic left.   
I make it down to his cell, pushing a cart full of empty plastic trays. Only one has any food on it- the rest are from breakfast.   
“Here,” I say, shoving the tray through the slot at the bottom of the door. “Eat up.” Snow doesn’t look at me.   
I turn to leave- there’s little point in talking to the prisoners- but the sound of his voice stops me.   
“Why?”  
I spin around, searching the gloom of the cell. Snow is propped up in the corner, looking decidedly worse for wear after his ordeal. There’s a lump forming on the side of his head, and his clothes are torn and bloodied- not enough to bother me, yet- and he’s hugging his knees to his chest. Snow looks up then, and a rush of images fill my head.   
Blue eyes.  
Bronze curls.  
Crowley, he’s gorgeous.   
I wasn’t sure why I thought so. Snow had skin that was almost as pale as mine- guess he really did live in a bunker- and his face was spotted with moles. His eyes weren’t particularly special, an ordinary shade of blue. His hair was longer on top and shorter around the sides, an ordinary blond. His face wore an expression of stubbornness, but there was also pain in his eyes.  
I knew that expression. I saw it every time I looked in a mirror.  
“Why?” he repeats. I blink- I’d forgotten Snow had ever asked a question.  
“Why what?”  
“Why work for the Humdrum? Does the destruction of your race and planet not bother you in the slightest?”  
I laugh, because Simon Snow is a moron. “Your race was killing mine long before the Humdrum, Snow,” I say. Aboard the Mothership, where the Humdrum has made no secret of the fact that I’m a vampire, there’s little use in concealing it. “And it doesn’t matter what bothers me. I do what I’m told. Look around- I’m alive, as much as I can be, and I’m free. You tried to fight, and where did it get you? A cage, awaiting death.”  
I leave at that point. I’ve never made a habit of talking to the prisoners, and I’m not going to start now. They’ll all be dead soon anyway. 

 

Simon

A week passes. Then two.  
I’m not sure what’s happening outside of my cell. I’m not even sure of why I’m still alive. The only person I’ve seen is the boy.  
I still don’t know his name. He brings a tray of bread and fish twice a day- or I assume twice a day. It’s not like I have a watch.   
Sometimes I talk to him, and sometimes he responds.  
I don’t tell him anything important, but I’m a social person, and cells get lonely fast. So whenever the boy shows up, I’m tempted to force him to talk to me. I can’t do that, so sometimes I just start blabbering on.   
This boy has heard about the cottage in the countryside where I grew up. He’s heard about the Mage being a terrible father. He’s heard about what I wanted out of my life, before all of this.  
I don’t see the harm. The Humdrum will kill me eventually, and nothing I’ve said could lead him back to the bunker, or Penny, or even Agatha.   
Penny. Smoke and Mirrors, she could be dead, for all I know.   
That’s what I’m thinking about when the boy shows up again. Last time he was here, he told me about the manor home he grew up in. His stories are rare and never very long, but they give me something to think about in this place. I’m not expecting him to talk again, but this time, he’s the one who speaks first.   
“I’m supposed to make sure you eat.”   
I look up at him, shocked. “Your master cares whether or not I starve?”  
“My master,” the boy says, “Would like you to stay alive for now. So, yes. And I have a vested interest in your survival, because I follow orders. So eat.”   
“No, thanks.” It’s one of the few times in my life I can remember not being hungry.   
“Look, Snow,” he says. “If you starve on my watch, it’s going to be unpleasant for everyone. Just eat the damn food.”   
“Will the Humdrum cut off your blood supply?” I ask, only half kidding (I’d figured out he was a vampire on day one. I’m not completely thick).   
“He’ll cut my siblings’ throats, is what he’ll do,” the boy says. “So eat- unless you want the deaths of a nine year old, two seven year olds, and possibly an infant on your hands.”   
I blink up at him, shocked. “The Humdrum would do that?”  
“In a heartbeat.”   
“Merlin,” I mutter. Then I pull the tray toward me and begin to eat. He could be manipulating me, sure. But I don’t think he is. There’s some feeling in his eyes, genuine worry that I didn’t think you could fake.  
“You ever going to tell me your name?” I ask. “You know mine, seems only fair that I know yours.”

 

Baz

I have no idea what the hell I think I’m doing.  
It’s not like I know Snow well or anything. A few weeks of mostly one-sided childhood stories and crushed dreams didn’t make us friends. But I looked forward to the few minutes I spent twice a day, listening to him talk. I didn’t even report it back to the Humdrum. He hadn’t asked, and the beauty of being the one reporting on all the private conversations was that no one was reporting your private conversations.  
I liked hearing about what his life had been, before the shit had hit the fan. I liked hearing his voice, and I liked telling him some of my stories (because I’d never had anyone to share them with before)(And because Snow was a really good listener).   
I have no idea what I’m doing…   
“Baz,” I say. “My name is Baz.”

 

Simon

“Baz,” I repeat. “I’m Simon, but you already knew that. Does this make us friends?”   
The boy- Baz- smirks. “No,” he says. “It makes us nothing. Most people swap names first, Snow. Friendship isn’t based off of knowing someone’s name. You’re terrible at this.”  
“Yeah, well,” I say. “The last time I met anyone new was seven years ago. Cut me a little slack.”  
Baz starts laughing. “Snow, I have not left this ship, I have not looked through a window, since I was five years old. At least you’ve seen the sky since you were a toddler.”   
That shuts me up.  
There were times when I hated the bunker and almost everyone in it. There were times when I wanted to go off and blow the whole place to smithereens. But no matter what, there was still that door at the Eye. I got to leave, sometimes. I’d seen the sky.   
Baz moves around to the back of his cart, pushing it away and leaving without another word. I spend the next twelve hours thinking about that- about growing up in a glorified coffin.   
The irony was terrible.

 

Baz

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I bother talking to this boy. All it’s going to bring me is a world of hurt.   
But there’s something about Simon Snow that makes him impossible to ignore.   
It’s been three weeks since he was captured, and every time I bring him his food, he talks to me.   
Every time, I respond. It’s a downward spiral.   
The Humdrum won’t keep him alive forever. Sooner or later, he’ll tire of this waiting game, and it will be me who has to drag Simon out of his cell, to the central atrium of the ship, so the Humdrum can murder him. I’ve done it before- delivered innocent people to their deaths. It bothers me, but not as much as the idea of it being one of my sisters, or my father, or my stepmother, or my aunt bleeding out on that floor.   
Not as much as the idea of it being Simon.  
I shake my head, moving down the hallway that leads to my family’s rooms. I’m being an idiot. If Simon Snow dies (and he will, eventually) then I can put this whole thing behind me. Move on with my miserable existence, hoping against hope that one of these resistance groups will accomplish something.  
I’d like to see the sun before I die.

 

Simon

I slump back against the wall of my cell, counting hours.   
I don’t actually have a reliable way to do that, but I can guess. I think it’s been about twelve hours since the last time I ate, so Baz should be here any minute. Sure enough, I can hear the squeak of the cart wheels at the other end of the hallway, stopping and starting as Baz delivers food to the other prisoners. I’m the only one he ever talks to.  
Finally, Baz makes it to the front of my cell, shoving the last tray of food under the door. Then he sits down on the other side of the bars, and I scoot forward, pulling the tray next to me. We’d be sitting a little too close together, if not for the bars.   
“How’s life?” I ask. It’s my standard greeting for him now. I think he likes having someone to complain to.   
“Hellish,” he responds. “Some poor woman got executed today. The Humdrum’s loosing patience with your father. You’re probably next, you realize that?” Baz is like this- cruel in a practical way. I appreciate that. I’ve never been one for sugar-coating.   
“I’m aware,” I say. “Any response? At all?”  
“No. I’m sorry.”  
I shrug. It’s not like I was expecting my father to launch a rescue, but I did think he might at least try to bargain for me. I’m not saying he should sell everyone out, but it hurts, knowing your own father won’t even try to get you out of the shit you’ve landed yourself in.   
“What?” Baz asks. I tell him what I’m thinking. I don’t know when he and I started being this honest with each other. For all I know, Baz is reporting everything I say to the Humdrum- but I don’t think he is. The Humdrum can’t possibly care about the cottage where I grew up, or my thoughts on the food here, or whatever else I’ve told Baz.   
“Crowley, Snow. You were expecting the Mage to give you a helping hand? What universe are you living in?” He snorts. “And can I join you? It sounds a hell of a lot more pleasant than this one.”   
“Not expecting,” I protest. “More like hoping.”   
“Hope never got anyone anywhere.”  
“Normally I’d argue, but today I’m feeling pessimistic enough to agree.”   
Baz rolls his eyes. “Simon Snow, low on optimism for the first time in his life. I never thought I’d see the day.”   
“You’ve known me for, like, a month.”  
“Three weeks,” Baz says, “and you’re a relatively easy read, Snow.”  
I laugh. “Right, because you’ve met so many new people.”  
“I have, actually. The Humdrum likes to move us around.”  
I blink, surprised. “But not you.”  
“No. Apparently my family is most useful here.”  
I nod, thoughtful (for once). “Why do these things happen? Why us, of all people?”  
“I think the Humdrum happened to everyone, Snow.”  
“Not to people living a hundred years ago, it didn’t. Maybe not to people living a hundred years from now. Maybe you’ll live to see it.”  
Baz runs a hand through his shoulder-length black hair. “I wouldn’t want to live that long, Snow. I don’t care how good it is, a world where everyone I love is dead doesn’t sound like much fun. Besides, I don’t think I’m immortal.”   
“I was thinking more along the lines of, you know, my odds of surviving the week as opposed to yours, but ok. Good to know.”  
Baz chuckles and drops his hand. It rests on the ground next to the bars. If I wanted to, I could reach out and hold his hand. I sort of want to- I’m not sure why.  
“I think this happened to us because we lost the universal lottery, or whatever. I think it’s just bad luck, nothing more. And I think that we just have to deal with it, because the world is how it is, and the universe where we both had a life and mothers and a choice is gone. It will never exist again.”

 

Baz

I never talk about my mother.  
I don’t have to. Everyone knows the story.  
Natasha Grimm-Pitch was one of the only people to oppose the Humdrum, back in the day. She and a woman named Lucy Salisbury worked together to preserve what little magic they could, to create a way for us to fight.  
They failed, of course. My mother died on the same day I was turned, when the Humdrum sent vampires to the family home. The next day, my father swore allegiance to the Humdrum in exchange for my life. I don’t know what happened to Lucy.  
Simon reaches through the bars and touches my hand. I almost pull it away, but I really don’t want to.  
“I think,” he says, his voice rough with disuse and emotion, “That things happen for a reason. I have to think that, or there was never a point to any of this- everything we’ve all been through. You know? And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry about your mum.”  
There are tears streaming down my face now. I don’t bother to wipe them away. Simon’s crying, too.   
“She died trying to protect me, trying to stop all this,” I say. “If I do nothing, if I let this happen, then she died for nothing.”   
“She died so you could live,” Simon replies. “I’d say that as long as you’re breathing, she didn’t die for nothing. My mother… She tried to stop this, too. It’s why my father is the way he is- my mother died because she failed to stop all this. He feels the same way you do. I could never convince him that Mum didn’t die in vain. I don’t know how to help you, Baz.”  
“Why would you want to?” I ask. “I’m your enemy’s slave, Simon. You probably won’t live through the next few days. Why waste your time on me?”  
“What else am I going to do?” Simon says. “Besides, maybe in twenty years or whenever, when you help defeat the Humdrum and fix everything, you’ll think back and remember me. I guess this is my way of saving the world.”  
We sit there in silence for a little while, his hand covering mine. Then I get up and leave. I drop off the cart and trays before returning to my room, where I close the door and slump against it, laying my head in my hands.   
Fuck. This is bad.  
If I’m not careful, I could ruin everything. I’m one wrong step away from leading my whole family to an early grave- that’s nothing new.  
What is new is that I’m now tempted to pick up the shovel, if it means Simon Snow lives.  
I don’t even know what to think right now. Other than something along the lines of fuck my life, because it’s accurate.  
I’m in love with Simon Snow.  
Now what am I supposed to do?

 

Simon 

There are a thousand things I should be thinking right now.  
I should be worried about Penny and mad at my father and wishing Agatha were here (not here, but… well, you know what I mean).  
I’m definitely worried about Penny, but the other two… Not so much. It’s kind of hard to be mad at someone for doing what you expected them to do. And Agatha… I haven’t thought much about her since I got here. Which is weird, since our breakup is the whole reason I’m in this situation.  
Instead, my thoughts are full of Baz. His voice, and the tears when he talked about his mum, and every conversation we’d had over the past three weeks. The feel of his hand touching mine.   
What is going on?  
I’d say vampire seduction, but Penelope says that’s a myth (Seduction? Since when is this a romantic relationship?) (It’s not. No way.) (Do I want it to be?) Besides, a trick like that would take more magic than anyone has.   
No, the only logical explanation is… That it’s not logical.   
I have no idea what’s going on. 

 

Baz

Another week passes before it happens.   
I spend that time promising myself that I’ll stay away from Simon Snow, only to promptly break that promise every twelve hours. Simon is a drug, and I’m addicted.  
When the Humdrum sends me a note, telling me to have Prisoner #47 in the atrium at noon tomorrow, I lose it.  
Before I know what I’m doing, I grab my mother’s wand from under my mattress (There’s not much point carrying it around. I have some magic, but I rarely use it) and I’m running.  
I make it to the cells around midnight. Simon is asleep, curled up against the wall. “Simon,” I hiss. “Simon!” I can’t be any louder. If one of the other prisoners raises the alarm, we’re all dead.   
He opens one eye, still half asleep. “Baz? What are you doing here?”  
“Never mind that. Get up, and get ready. This won’t be pretty.” I aim my wand at the lock and take a deep breath, drawing on whatever’s left of my magic.  
“Open Sesame!”  
Nothing. I shake out my hand, muttering under my breath. “Fuck. Come on…” I point the wand again, and this time, I refuse to take no for an answer. Any magic I have left, anything that hasn’t been sucked away, I need it. “Open Sesame!”  
The door flies open, almost banging against the wall. I grab it just in time.  
“Come on, Simon. We need to go.”  
He stands and follows me into the hallway. “Baz? What’s going on?” There’s a little suspicion in his eyes, but I think he’s more worried than anything.  
“You have two choices- you follow me, or you die at noon tomorrow,” I say. “Let’s go.”  
He follows me without complaint.

 

Simon

I have no idea what the fuck is going on.  
I have no idea when I started trusting Baz with my life, but now I’m following him through the corridors of the fucking Mothership, knowing full well that this could easily be some kind of trap. I don’t think it is, though.  
We make it down to the lowest level, and Baz starts to lead me down another hallway when he stops and throws out an arm.  
I hear it, then- footsteps on metal, voices.  
We press ourselves back against the wall, but it’s no good- they’re coming this way. The group turns the corner, sees us, and stops, confusion waring over their faces.  
“Basil?” one of them asks, stepping forward. I recognize him- it’s the white haired man. The one who helped capture me. “What are you doing?”  
“Please, Father,” Baz says. I’m not sure what he’s asking for. I’m not sure he knows, either.   
Wands and guns slip into hands on both sides of the hallway. I clench my fists, wishing I had something. Anything. This was about to turn into a bloodbath.   
Baz’s father raises his wand, pointing it at me.  
Baz is faster.  
“Good Fences Make Great Neighbors!” he shouts, grabbing my arm and dragging me back the way we came. I’m not even sure if the spell worked- I just know we’re running, down hallway after hallway, and there are footsteps behind us again. Either Baz hadn’t been able to cast the spell, or it had broken already.   
“Baz,” I say. I’m not out of breath- raiding supply trucks twice a week means you tend to be in pretty good shape. “Where are we going?”  
“The launch bay,” Baz says. He’s not out of breath either- vampire perks, I guess. “I don’t have clearance, but Open Sesame should work.”  
I was about to ask why we were going to the launch bay when we reached a set of heavy iron doors set into the wall.  
The good news was that we didn’t have to risk the Open Sesame not working.  
The bad news was that the group from before had gotten here first.  
Baz raises his wand, and I don’t know why, but the idea of him dying is just too much for me. I call my magic, feeling it pool under my skin. Unleashing it here will be devastating, but I can shield Baz from most of it. Maybe. I’m about to try when he slips his hand into mine.

 

Baz

We are both about to die.  
I tried to save him, and instead I doomed myself, the man I love, and my family. I can only hope the Humdrum lets my siblings live.   
I reach out and grab Simon’s hand, wanting to know that I’m not alone now, even if him being here means he’s about to die, too (I’d give anything for him not to be here).   
And then I feel his magic.  
It’s like our hands have fused together, like he’s become a tap, a generator I can plug into. Magic floods into me, and I have never felt so alive. I point my wand at the approaching group of magicians and say, “You shall not pass!” (Hopefully they’ve all seen Lord of the Rings).   
The barrier spell flairs to life around us, halting them in their tracks. Faster and more efficient than any spell I’ve ever cast.   
“How are you doing that?” Simon asks.  
“I’d like to ask you the same question. Come on, let’s go,” I say, pulling Simon over to the hangar doors.   
“Open Sesame!” They fly backward, smashing into the wall on the other side. We race through, and I lead the way, running toward the back of the hangar to the launch pad.  
I’ve never been back here before, but my aunt has described it to me in detail. I point my wand at the bay doors set into the wall and cast the spell again.   
The doors slide open, and fresh air blows into the ship, and Alistair fucking Crowley.   
There’s the sky, and the city below us, and the night sky is sprinkled with stars. It’s beautiful.  
I could have stood there forever, but just then I hear the sound of footsteps as the magicians finally rush into the room.   
I turn to Simon. “Go,” I say, pointing my wand at him. “Float Like A Butterfly!”   
I’m still holding his hand, so he doesn’t go far, just rises off the floor a couple of inches. We’re almost the same height now.   
“Baz, no,” he says. “You have to come with me.”  
I shake my head. “I can’t leave my family.” The magicians are getting closer.   
“Why are you doing this?” Simon asks. There are tears gathering in his eyes. “Why risk everything to save my life?”  
I can’t resist anymore. I’m probably about to die. My whole family is probably about to die. And fuck it all, I am not going to meet my end without kissing Simon Snow.  
So that’s what I do.

 

Simon

Baz pulls me close to him and kisses me, and I gasp, surprised, but I don’t want him to stop. I never want him to stop.   
But he does, far too soon (I don’t care about the dozen magicians pointing their wands at me right now. I really don’t). He steps back from me and says, “Because I love you, Simon Snow.”  
Then he lets me go, pushing me out of the open doors before I can say anything. Before I can convince him to come with me. Before I can help him fight.  
Before I can tell him I love him, too. 

 

Two Weeks Later

 

Simon

The Mothership loomed ahead of us, gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. From the passenger seat of the pod, I glance behind me.   
Agatha’s sitting in the back, out of the bunker for the first time since she entered it. Out the rear window, I can see two other pods, flanking us, carrying seven more soldiers between them. And in the seat next to me, Penelope flies the ship with unwavering concentration.   
When I landed at dawn on that day, right on the outskirts of the city, I’d been sobbing, filthy, malnourished and unarmed. It was sheer dumb luck that I’d managed to stumble through the streets for the better part of a day, trying to remember the way back to the door at the Eye (which wasn’t the only way in- there were at least three closer to where I had ended up)(Sue me, I wasn’t thinking)(That’s not anything new).  
Anyway, I made it back to the bunker. My father hadn’t believed it was me, at first- and the second he did, he was on the warpath.   
“Now that you’re home safe, Simon,” he’d said, “The Humdrum has nothing to use against us. And you’ve seen their ship, you know its weaknesses. We finally have an advantage, we can finally strike back!”  
He wanted to know every detail about the Mothership, its inhabitants, their lives and schedule. He didn’t ask, not once, if I was ok.  
“Who guards the prisons?” he’d asked. “Where is the control room located? Where does the Humdrum spend most of his time- Simon! Are you listening to me?”  
“Yeah,” I said. “We need to launch a rescue mission.”  
“What?” he’d snapped. “For the other prisoners? Of course we are.”  
“No,” I’d said. “I mean, yes- but also for some of the families. They don’t all want to be there, and the children-”  
“You want to rescue the children of the Old Families?” my father said. “Simon, they’re all infected with the worst kind of evil. It would be a mercy to let them burn.”  
So I’d run out of the room and gone to see Penny, who had made a full recovery, thank magic. She’d listened while I told her the whole story- my imprisonment, the planned execution, Baz and everything he’d done for me.  
“Are you in love with him, Simon?” she’d asked. Direct and to the point, the way Penny always was.   
“What- how did you- I don’t- what?” I’d stammered, even through I knew there was little use in denying it.   
“Nicks and Slick, you are in love with him! Well, now we have to save him. You’ll be inconsolable otherwise. I’m not putting up with you weeping and moping for the next magic-knows-how-long. Come on, then. We’ll plan a rescue mission.”  
And so we had.  
Right under my father’s nose, too- all he was interested in was killing the Humdrum. I wasn’t even sure it was possible to kill the Humdrum- and right then, I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting Baz and his family off of that ship.   
Me, Penny, and Agatha in one ship. Ebb, Rhys, Gareth, and Philippa in the second. Trixie, Keris, and Premal in the third. Premal was usually my father’s most loyal supporter- I’d been shocked when he volunteered for this.   
The plan was simple. We would dock at the launch pad I’d escaped from, pretending to be a team returning from a raid if we were questioned. We’d had to pool all of our remaining magic and every resource we could come up with to disguise the ships, and it wouldn’t hold up under inspection, but there was nothing we could do about that.  
From there, we’d spit up and search the ship. We’d time it for two hours to find Baz and his family and get everyone back to the launch pad.  
It was a pretty simple plan, and it would probably go wrong. But we didn’t have much choice. I didn’t have much choice.  
I had to save Baz. No matter what.

 

Penny, Agatha, and I crept around the living quarters, searching.  
I hadn’t actually known where the living quarters were, so getting here had taken some trial and error, but we made it in the end.   
Agatha turned a corner and ran straight into a woman who greatly resembled Baz.   
I knew who she must be at once.   
“Fiona Pitch?” I asked. She looked the three of us over, then turned her full attention on me.   
“Simon Snow.” It wasn’t a question. “The Mage’s kid.”   
“Yeah. Look, I’m here to rescue your nephew. Do you know where he is?”   
“Are you the prisoner Basilton fell for?”   
“I- yeah, I guess so.”   
“The Humdrum locked him up. Where you were- high security. Him and all the children, and their father. All except the baby and Daphne.”  
“Ok,” I say. “Ok. Um. Are you interested in getting out of here?”   
Fiona raises one eyebrow. “Fuck yes. You have a way off this goddamn ship?”  
“Yes,” Penny says. “Agatha, you go with Fiona. Get Daphne and the baby, and get back to the launch pad. Leave the second you have someone who can fly the ship.” Agatha nods, barely concealing her nerves.   
“I’ll go with Simon,” Penny continues, “Get Baz and the rest of them, and meet you there- or back at the bunker.”   
Agatha and Fiona take off around the corner, and I guide Penny through the ship, back down the half-remembered corridors to the Prison Wing.   
There’s a man in the first cell. I know who he is- he’d been there when I was captured, and again when Baz had helped me escape. Malcolm Grimm. Baz’s father.   
While we were planning this prison break, I’d told Penny what had happened with my magic- how Baz had been able to use it. We’d tried, but all it had done to Penny was leave a nasty burn on her palm. So magic was out.   
Fortunately, Penny had taken it upon herself years ago to learn lockpicking. With magic as unreliable as it was, certain Normal skills had become more necessary for magicians.   
“Mr. Grimm?” I ask, while Penny goes to work on the lock. “We’re here to get you out.”  
Malcolm Grimm looks up from the floor of his cell. I can see the recognition on his face.   
“Daphne,” he says, as Penny pushes the door open. “The children-”  
“Fiona, Daphne, and the baby are safe,” Penny says. It’s a lie- none of us are safe, especially not right now. “Where are your other children?”   
“Here,” Malcom says, stepping out of the cell. “A few cells down, I think.” He leads the way down the corridor, stopping in front of another cell. I peer inside.   
There are three small girls in there, huddled together in the back corner. They leap to their feet when they see their father.   
Penny unlocks the door, and I spin to face Malcolm.   
“Where’s Baz?” I demand.   
“I don’t know,” Malcolm whispers. “Here somewhere, I hope.”   
I nod. I have to believe Baz is still alive, and here.   
“Penny,” I say. “Get Mr. Grimm and the girls to the launch bay. I’ll find Baz and meet you there.”   
Penny looks reluctant to leave me, but I don’t give her a chance to argue. I sprint off down the corridor, leaving her with the others. 

 

Baz

When I see him, I think I’m hallucinating.   
I’d been pacing around my tiny cell, located all the way at the end of the prison wing, when a shadow appeared at the door.   
I turn to face it, and there he is.   
Simon Snow.   
“What the fuck are you doing here, Snow?” I demand, panic drowning out any rational thought. “The Humdrum will kill you if-”  
“Shut up,” Simon says. “I need to concentrate.” He pulls out a wand.   
“Open Sesame!” he cries. Magic fills the air around him, but the door doesn’t open.   
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Come on, come on… Open Sesame!”  
The bars of the door melt into a glowing pile of goo.   
“Good enough,” Simon says, reaching through the hole they left behind to help me climb out of the cell.   
“Simon,” I gasp. “How- What are you doing?”  
“Saving your life,” Simon says. He starts to drag me back down the corridor, but I hesitate.   
“My family?” I ask.   
“Safe, hopefully,” Simon replies.   
He came for me. He came for my family.   
“I love you,” I say. Because I don’t think I can go another minute without saying it.   
Simon smiles. “I love you, too. Now, let’s run, before we die.” 

 

Penelope

I charge into the launch bay, Mr. Grimm and the girls behind me, to find that all hell has broken loose.   
Fiona Pitch and Daphne Grimm are standing in front of Agatha, wands out. Agatha is holding the baby. No one else is back yet. Fuck.   
Fiona and Daphne are dueling with two members of the old families. I don’t know who they are, but I do know that it’s not going well. No one has enough magic for this.   
Behind me, I can hear footsteps racing toward the launch bay. It could be anyone, friend or foe, but we can’t risk sealing the doors. Mr. Grimm grabs a gun off the wall and shoots the magician facing his wife; I point my ring hand at Fiona’s assailant and cast “Out Like A Light!” The magician slumps to the ground, but I’m instantly out of magic.   
“Let’s go!” I say, throwing open the door to the ship with a child seat as more of the Old Families pour into the launch bay.   
Agatha buckles the baby into the seat while I grab one of the young girls and forcibly strap her in. Fiona and Mr. Grimm hold off the attackers while Daphne shoves one of the other girls into her seat.   
“Mordelia!” Daphne cries, looking around for the last girl.   
Rhys, Gareth, Phillipa, and Keris charge into the bay, and start shooting at the Old Families, but there’s just too many of them.   
“Gareth!” I scream. Gareth can fly the ship, he can get the kids out of here. He runs over, stopping only to shoot someone in the back.   
“Where’s Mordelia?” Daphne sobs, near hysteria.   
“We’ll find her!” I say, just as Ebb and Premal join the battle. Still no sign of Trixie, Simon, or Baz.   
“Agatha, Gareth, get in and go!” I yell. “We’ll follow you!” Agatha swings herself into the passenger seat, and Gareth climbs in behind the wheel. Keris runs over, supporting a bleeding Rhys; the two of us buckle him into the remaining seat. If they get him back to the bunker in time, he’ll live. I yank Daphne back as the ship takes flight, passing through the open bay doors and into the sunset.   
A few members of the Old Families roar in outrage, but I ignore them, sprinting for the next ship. 

 

Baz

Simon and I are one floor up from the launch bay when we run directly into a small figure.   
“Mordelia!” I yelp. “What are you doing here?”  
“Looking for you!” she snaps, defiant as ever.   
“Come on, both of you!” Simon says, panic starting to enter his voice. “We should’ve been there ten minutes ago.” The three of us start running back the way Mordelia came.  
“Stop.”   
I turn, and behind us, six magicians have rounded the corner. Only two of them have wands; the rest are armed with guns, but that doesn’t make them any less dangerous.   
“Simon,” I say, holding out my right hand. He doesn’t hesitate, passing me the wand he’d used earlier. It’s not mine, but it might work. Maybe. Or we could all be about to die.   
But when I raise the wand, he grabs my other shoulder, and I feel it again- the rush of power, flowing up my arm and flooding every other sense.   
“Shut Up!”  
The magicians with wands try to cast, but no sound comes out. I don’t know how long the spell will last- I’ve never had enough magic to cast it before.   
The magicians with guns have just raised them to eye level when a quiet voice says, “Stop.”

 

Simon

There’s a boy standing at the end of the corridor, past the members of the old families.   
I instinctively push Baz and Mordelia behind me as he walks closer, the other magicians moving to make way.  
It’s me.  
Or… Me, how I looked seven years ago. The first time I lost control of my magic.   
“Simon,” the boy says. “Look at you. You’ve changed. You’re always changing. I never do.”  
“Why do you… Why are you me?” I ask, gasping for breath. I hear Baz inhale sharply as he makes the connection.  
“Why not?” the boy- the Humdrum- asks. “You’re the reason I exist. Why shouldn’t I look like you?”   
“What do you mean?” I ask, but I can practically hear Baz’s mind at work next to me, putting the pieces together, and I’m starting to understand, too.   
There’s just one problem. The Humdrum- the sentient Humdrum- supposedly existed thirteen years ago, when Baz’s mum died. I can’t have created him at eleven if he existed when I was five.  
Right?  
“It’s his magic, isn’t it?” Baz asks, moving to stand next to me while keeping Mordelia behind him. “It’s too much for the magickal atmosphere. You’re like- you’re his echo. The echo of the magic Simon accidentally ripped out.”  
“I suppose,” the Humdrum said. “None of this was exactly an accident, though. I was created. The magic Simon here uses…” The Humdrum turned slightly to grin at me conspiratorially. “It goes to me, yes. And then it goes to him.”  
“Who?” I demand, but the Humdrum keeps talking, rambling like a child might.   
“Simon’s like… He harvests the magic, and then it gets used elsewhere. His mother wasn’t happy, when she found out. She tried to stop him- tried to stop the one who did this. And she had help. But it ended badly.”  
Baz turns to face me, shocked. “Your mother was Lucy Salisbury?”  
“Yeah- Snow is my middle name, not my last name” I say. Everything’s making a kind of horrible sense. “My father did this, didn’t he?”  
“Yes,” the Humdrum says. “He wasn’t trying to do this, of course-” the Humdrum gestures around him- “But his experiments did cause your magic to act the way it does. Which is why I need your help.”

 

Baz

It all makes sense, now- all the little things that didn’t add up before.  
What had the Mage done, to make Simon so powerful? What had he been trying to do?  
“Help?” Simon asks, kneeling so he can look the Humdrum in the eye.   
“I can’t exist,” the Humdrum says. “I’m a hole. Every time you use magic, I get bigger. Originally, before I was… alive… all that magic just went to the Mage. You became too powerful.”   
“Oh… kay?” Simon says. “How do we help you?”  
“You destroy me.”  
“What?” I demand, pushing forward, keeping Mordelia behind me, to stare directly at the Humdrum. “Why would you want that?”  
“Because my life sucks,” the Humdrum said matter-of-factly. “I’m an echo of Simon. I remember everything he does, up until he was eleven years old. I remember Mum,” he adds softly. “I don’t want to destroy the world.”

 

Mordelia

I’m not sure what’s happening.   
I couldn’t leave without my brother. Baz had always protected me. He’s made sure my sisters and I never did anything to attract the attention of the Humdrum.   
Sounds like we didn’t really need to worry about that, though.   
And now Baz, the Humdrum, and the blond boy- Simon?- are having what sounds like a pretty intense discussion, and the members of the Old Families are just standing there.   
The Humdrum nods once, and steps back. “I’ll meet you there.” He gestures to the group of people behind him, and they’re gone, vanishing back around the corridor.   
Baz turns to face Simon. “You don’t have to do this, love.”  
“Yeah,” Simon says. “I do.”  
Baz leans forward to kiss Simon, and I give them about ten seconds before deciding that watching your older brother kiss his boyfriend is something no little sister would have to put up with. “Oi! Knock it off!”   
Baz steps away from Simon, turning to face me. “Mordelia.” He glances back and forth helplessly. “I’m taking you back-”  
“The fuck you are. I’m staying with you.”  
Baz looks a bit worried now. “Where the hell did you learn to swear?”  
I raise one eyebrow.  
Simon laughs. “She’s your sister, all right.”  
“She’s nine,” Baz grumbles. “Fine. Come on, Mordy. Stay out of the way, you hear me?”  
I nod.  
“Great.” Baz takes Simon’s hand, raising his wand with the other. “Let’s go.”

 

Simon

None of this makes any sense.   
But I do know this- the Humdrum is right. My- our?- mother wouldn’t want this.  
I have to do whatever it takes to stop it.   
We- Baz, Mordelia, and I- meet the Humdrum in the center of the ship. “Here,” he says. “We’ll do it here. It’s as good a place as any.”  
“Simon,” Baz says. “You really don’t have to do this- we can find another way.”  
“We probably could,” I agree. “But we wouldn’t do it in time. I’m not letting more people suffer because I wasn’t strong enough to do this.”  
“It’s not about strength,” Baz says. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”   
I don’t know what to say to that, so I kiss him instead.   
“Eww,” Mordelia says. “Cut it with the PDA, please.”   
I step away from Baz, toward the Humdrum. “I’ll be ok,” I say. “I’m going to finish this.”  
Baz nods. “I know you will.”   
I turn to face the Humdrum. “Ok,” I say. “Tell me what to do.”  
“Put your hands on my shoulders,” the Humdrum instructs, and I do. “Now picture it. All the magic. Everything you stole. Give it to me.”  
And I do.

 

Baz

Simon is glowing, and the glow is seeping through his hands, into the Humdrum.   
It’s an incredible sight, but I’m too busy worrying about Simon to really notice that.   
Until I hear Mordelia scream behind me.   
I spin around, and I know Simon started to turn away from the Humdrum, because I can hear him shouting, “Stay where you are, you’ll make everything worse if you move!” I can here the genuine panic in the Humdrum’s voice. And nothing blows up, so Simon must not have moved.   
The Mage is standing in front of me, holding a knife to my little sister’s throat.   
I bend my knees slightly, my fangs snapping out, and try to figure out if I can cover the distance before the Mage cuts Mordelia’s throat.  
“Simon,” the Mage calls, “Stop.”  
“I can’t!” Simon says, and I glance back once, briefly. Simon’s hands have sunk into the Humdrum’s shoulders, and the magic is still flowing out of him.   
“Let her go,” I snarl, returning my attention to the immediate problem. “She’s just a kid.”  
“I know.” The Mage looks almost regretful. “But my work is more valuable than any one life.”  
“What are you talking about?” I ask, unable to look away, now, from that knife, and the faint line of red under it. I can smell my sister’s blood.   
“All of this,” the Mage says. “Everything I’ve done, I did for Simon. And Lucy.” The Mage laughs, a dry, horrible sound. He removes the knife from Mordelia’s throat, but doesn’t release his hold on her. He shifts his grip so he’s holding her against his side, and yanks up his shirt.   
His chest is a mess of metal and crystal and tubes full of strange, glowing fluid. Dials and buttons and gauges.  
“The magic keeps you alive.” It doesn’t take a genius to work it out, now. The Mage was dying- should have died a long time ago. He would have, without the Humdrum.  
“Yes,” the Mage hisses. “I was sick. I didn’t want to loose them- or to risk what might happen to Simon, if it happened to him, too. If I could cure myself, I could cure him.”  
And then everything went to hell.  
A small side door that I hadn’t noticed previously flew open. A short, chubby girl raced in, followed by a tall blond woman. The shorter girl had a gun, and a purple ring on her outstretched hand. The other woman had a staff, and a small pistol. She must have some serious power, to rely on it like that.   
“Lay down your arms!” the woman calls, pointing her staff at the Mage, and his knife flies out of his hand. Mordelia shoves away from him, and he’s surprised enough that he lets her. She races to my side, and I hug her, turning to shield her from the Mage.   
Simon, meanwhile, gives a cry of pain and drops to one knee. The glow around him and the Humdrum is fainter know. So is the Humdrum himself.   
“NO!” The Mage charges at Simon, but the two women are there, holding him back.   
“You all right, Simon?” The girl calls.  
“Fine!” Simon pants, still holding onto the Humdrum.   
Both women are shooting at the Mage now, and he’s blocking everything with a set of hastily constructed magickal shields. I’ve never seen someone use magic like that before. The younger girl’s spells aren’t as effective as the older woman’s, and even she’ll run dry before long.  
Behind them, the Humdrum disappears, and Simon slumps to the ground. 

 

Simon

The last of my magic disappears in a painful rush, and the world goes white.  
I’m floating- I’m not sure where, but there are voices, and I can feel something pulling at me. Like everything that was there, is gone, and now there’s only a hole. A black hole, sucking at me with inescapable gravity.   
I don’t know. Maybe it’s Death- maybe I wasn’t strong enough. Or maybe no magician can survive being ripped from their power like that.   
What if everything that kept me tethered to the world is gone?  
But.  
I think of my friends from the bunker. Rhys. Gareth. Philippa. Keris. Trixie. Ebb. Agatha.   
Penelope.   
Baz.   
More than anything else, it’s Penny and Baz’s faces that bring me back. 

 

Penelope

Simon collapses to the ground, and the black-haired boy, who I assume is Baz, runs for him, dragging Mordelia behind him.   
I want to run for Simon too, to make sure he’s alright, but the Mage is still fighting, even though the Humdrum is gone. Without him, the Mage will die, the way he apparently should have a long time ago.   
All of my spells are working now, and I realize it’s because of Simon- he filled the hole in the magickal atmosphere. Our magic is back.  
Our magic is back.  
I cast “Good Fences Make Great Neighbors!” and the barrier springs to life between the Mage, and me and Ebb. I lower my hand. Ebb lowers her staff.   
Faster than I can do anything, the Mage casts “Open Sesame!” The barrier dissolves, and he shoves a second knife into Ebb’s chest. 

 

Baz

Behind me, one of the women is screaming something. I’m not listening, though. I’m focused on Simon.   
Mordelia is crouched down beside me, and I have one hand on her shoulder, and the other brushing loose curls back from Simon’s forehead.   
“Simon?” I say, searching for any sign of life. He’s alive. He has to be. “Simon-”  
His eyes fly open, and I sob in relief.   
“Baz,” he says. “What-” He glances back, at something over his shoulder, and scrambles to his feet. “Penny!”  
I turn around. The younger of the two women- Penny- is kneeling beside the older woman. A knife hilt protrudes from her chest.   
Behind them, the Mage struggles against magickal bonds, but his movement are slowing.   
Simon scrambles across the floor, collapsing next to his friend. Mordelia and I follow.  
“No- Ebb- Penny, do something!” Simon’s crying, tears dripping onto the floor.   
There’s nothing anyone can do. 

 

The Mage

I never meant for it to end this way.   
All I wanted was to live. To be able to save my son’s life, should he need it.   
I gave him magic, so nothing could harm him, and I tried to use some of that magic to burn out my own sickness.   
Instead, Lucy turned on me. She said I’d destroy us both, and maybe she was right.   
Lucy. I’m sorry.   
I never meant for all of this to happen. I thought the loss of our world’s magic would lead to this, to the riots and the death, the powerful rallying around someone they thought could lead them.   
I sacrificed Lucy to save Simon’s life, and in the end, I lost them both.  
“Simon,” I rasp. “Simon, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t want this.”  
He looks at me with Lucy’s eyes, and nods. “I know.”  
It’s not forgiveness, but I don’t expect that.   
I don’t say anything else. There’s nothing left to say.   
When I close my eyes, I can see Lucy, waiting for me. 

 

One year later

 

Simon

Things are changing.   
For the better, I think.   
Eventually, Penny, Baz, Mordelia, and I left the Mothership. We took Ebb’s body with us. We left my father. Some of us went back for it later, and he was cremated, the ashes buried just outside of the bunker entrance, at the Eye.  
Ebb was buried just outside of the city, in a vast impromptu graveyard. Most of the graves there are unmarked- hers isn’t. There’s a simple stone slab, carved with her name.   
There’s a lot of rebuilding to do- the world isn’t going to fix itself overnight. But we’ve made a lot of progress in the last year.   
Which is why I’m moving out.   
I grab my bag- packed with a few sets of cloths, a toothbrush, a couple of old paperbacks. It’s all I own. My room at the bunker seems emptier than it ever has, even though packing up my stuff didn’t change much about it.   
Agatha’s waiting in the hallway, outside my door, clutching a similar bag to her chest.   
“Hey,” I say.  
“Hey,” she says. Agatha’s changed- a lot. Her hair’s longer, and she’s got a little color in her skin now after a few trips outside. But it’s more than that- I can’t quite put my finger on it, even now.   
“You’re leaving too?” I ask.  
“Definitely. I’m sick of this place.” We both chuckle, then fall silent.   
“Where will you be?” I ask finally.   
“California. My parents hid there, after… Everything. I’m flying out to meet them.”   
“Oh. That’s great.”  
“You’re staying here, I assume? Even without Penny?” There’s a knowing look on her face. I hate it.  
“Yeah.” I am.  
“Well, if you ever find yourself in the States, look me up, ok?”  
“Of course. And, hey, we have mobile phones again. Call me.”  
“You got it.” Agatha waves and walks down the corridor, toward the exit. I turn and head out the other way.  
Penny’s waiting for me, too, leaning against a bike out on the grass.  
“Leaving so soon?” she calls to me.  
“No point sticking around,” I say. “It’s just the two of us left now, and you’re leaving next week.” In the chaos after the Mage’s death, some American magicians had come to Britain, to help out and study the Mothership. One of them, a bloke named Micah, had become good friends with Penny, almost immediately. They’d started dating a few months later, and now the whole Bunce family was moving to Chicago.   
“Yeah, but you’re going to call. Every week.”  
“Sure. Don’t suppose you want to give me a ride?”  
Penny smiles. “Why do you think I’m here?”  
The drive through the city is nice. Most of it is still a wreck, but there are people around now, living their lives. The rebuilt areas and the rubble form a patchwork around us.   
Penny parks the bike outside one of the reconstructed buildings, and follows me up four flights of stairs.   
I knock at the door. There’s a moment of silence, and then the sound of someone fumbling with the lock.  
Baz opens the door, a smile already spreading across his face.   
“Snow. You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”  
“Sorry.” I lean in to kiss him quickly, stepping past him into the flat- our flat. “Traffic was murder.”  
“A likely story. Hello, Bunce.”  
“Hello, Baz.” Neither Penny nor Baz will admit it, but they’ve actually become good friends.   
“Mordelia might call later,” Baz tells me, closing the door behind us. “She’s already bored with Oxford. She wants to visit.”  
“She’s welcome to,” I say. “There’s a spare bedroom.”  
Penny, meanwhile, has taken it upon herself to investigate the bookshelves in our living room. “This is pathetic,” she declares. “I thought better of you than this, Basil.”  
“Sorry,” he sneers. “All the bookshops have been reduced to heaps of rubble.”  
“So’s the supermarket, and you don’t see us starving.”  
“You have bunker rations!”  
I leave them to their argument, moving around the flat, finding places for my few possessions. Penny makes dinner, and Baz heats up a mugful of pig’s blood.   
The sun is setting when Penny hugs us both goodbye. “I’ll see you again, before I go,” she says. “And after, definitely.”  
“Obviously,” Baz says. “I don’t think we’d be able to survive without you.”  
“Well, of course,” she says. I’m tempted to laugh, but it’s true.   
“See you boys,” she says. “Take care, Simon.”  
“Why am I the one who has to take care?” I protest.   
“Because you’re the one most likely to break something.”  
She waves and leaves the flat before I can argue.   
Baz collapses backwards on the sofa, and I sit next to him, curling up and resting my head on his shoulder.   
I love moments like this, when it’s just the two of us. They’ve been few and far between the past twelve months.   
“You alright, Simon?” Baz asks quietly, and I realize I’m crying.  
“Yeah,” I say thickly. “It’s just… A bit bittersweet. You know?”   
“Yeah,” he says, and there’s something in his voice that makes me turn to face him.   
Baz is looking at me, and there’s something in his eyes… I’ve seen it there before. Hell, it’s the look on my face every time I see him.  
“I love you, Simon Snow,” he says. “Just in case you didn’t know.”  
“I did, funnily enough,” I say. “I love you, too.”  
Baz smiles again. “So would it be alright if we just made out on the sofa for the rest of the night?”  
“Well. It’s not like I had other plans.”   
I reach up to kiss him.


End file.
